Page 55

Chapter 13

M arc heard Royce leave the room, followed by the faint slap of his feet on the marble floor of the bathroom, but he couldn’t imagine why he’d left or what he could possibly be getting. Marc dropped his head back and bit his lower lip. He’d never expected Royce to be like this. The commanding, controlling side he expected. But the gentleness, the tenderness, they were just as intoxicating.

Seconds later, he could hear Royce returning, but when the man stepped in front of him again, holding the same black tie that he’d loaned Royce for the gallery show, his heart gave a little skip. There’d been others when he’d given up control that had tied him up. It hadn’t gone well. He could feel Royce’s eyes on his face, and he knew that he wasn’t hiding his own unease as well as he wanted to. He didn’t want to mess this up, didn’t want Royce to walk away.

Royce was different.

It had become a mantra that he kept repeating in his head.

Putting his wrists together, Marc lifted his hands and forced a smile. “I trust you.”

The smile on Royce’s lips became a little sadder. He put his hand on top of Marc’s hands and pushed them down before lifting the tie to run the satiny material across Marc’s bottom lip. “No, baby. That’s not what I’ve got in mind. Say it again.”

Marc stared at him in confusion for a moment before he realized what he wanted. “I trust you.” This time the words were easier. Freeing.

“Perfect.”

The last thing Marc saw as the tie covered his eyes was Royce’s smile.

Satin material pulled tight against his eyes, plunging him into darkness. Royce knotted it on the side of his head, probably so that it wouldn’t be under his head should he find himself lying down. And then Royce stepped away. Marc licked his lips, and clenched his fists at his sides, straining to hear Royce over the pounding of his heart in his ears. He did trust Royce, but that didn’t mean that excitement didn’t thrum through every fiber of his being as he waited, trying to anticipate what would happen next.

A strong hand wrapped around his throat from behind, tilting his head back, until it rested against Royce’s flat stomach. The other hand slipped down over his shoulder, sliding across his chest in a caress, making it impossible to hide that fast beat of his heart. His thumb brushed over his lower lip, tugging at it until Marc opened his mouth.

With his sight stolen, his sense of touch was that much sharper, his skin tingling with each motion of Royce’s hand. The soft hint of Royce’s warm scent wafting over him.

“Do you have any idea how perfect you are? So beautiful. I’ve never met anyone who looks as perfect as you do.”

Marc wanted to argue that he thought Royce was truly the beautiful one. That he ached to capture that beauty on canvas and chisel it in marble. He’d learned tonight that it was the one time he could put his frustration over his own skill aside and just work—nothing else seemed to matter when he was trying to recreate the raw splendor that was Royce.

But he couldn’t speak because Royce had slipped his thumb inside his mouth. Marc hummed with pleasure as he licked the digit before carefully scraping his teeth along the pad. The hand on his chest clamped down, and Royce sucked in a deep breath. His hips thrust against Marc’s back, rough jeans rubbing along his flesh. There was no mistaking the rock-hard cock pressing between his shoulder blades.

“Your mouth. I was telling you the truth earlier. That it makes me hungry. There are so many filthy things that I want to do to that perfect mouth.”

Royce pulled his thumb free of Marc’s lips and he moaned. “Yes.”

“Beg me to fuck your mouth.”

“Yes, please. I want your dick in my mouth. I need to taste you.”

The warm weight against his back instantly disappeared, and he followed the sound of rubbing fabric around him until Royce’s heat was directly in front of him. His hands were back, framing and cupping his face.

“Show me how badly you want it.”

With trembling hands, Marc slowly reached forward until he came into contact with the coarse material of his jeans wrapped around powerful thighs. He dragged his hands upward, squeezing muscles and shaping his strong legs, creating the picture in his mind. He stopped when he reached Royce’s hips, holding him steady as he leaned forward, pressing his face directly into Royce’s crotch. With his nose, he nuzzled his dick, feeling it twitch behind the jeans. One of Royce’s hands settled on the top of his head, tightening in his hair, but not controlling him.

“Remove my pants.” His voice was rough and low, the sound flowing through Marc’s body with the same intoxicating warmth as the finest whiskey.

Pulling back, he quickly found the zipper and lowered it. He grabbed the waist of both the pants and briefs and carefully pulled them both down to Royce’s knees. His cock sprang free, brushing across Marc’s lips and cheek, leaving behind a sticky trail of pre-come. Marc licked his lips, getting his first faint, salty hint of Royce, but it only made him hungry for more. He’d been dying to do this almost from the first moment that he’d met Royce. The sound of Royce’s ragged breaths urged him on. He wanted to drive Royce crazy, to push him over the edge until he was shouting and coming in his mouth.

Like Royce had done to him earlier.

Marc slid his hands back up Royce’s legs, loving the feel of the rough hair under his palms before he grabbed his hips. He drew in a deep breath and was again hit with the wonderful, musky scent of Royce with the faint hint of soap. The same soap that Marc had used earlier that night. They’d taken turns showering before bed, clinging to the idea that the hot water would help them relax. This was so much better for relaxation.

Leaning forward until Royce’s cock bumped against his lips, Marc opened his mouth and slowly licked up his thick length. A low groan rumbled from Royce, and it was the best sound in the world. When he reached the plump tip, he carefully wrapped his lips around it, sucking and swirling his tongue before releasing him. He moved lower and licked up his cock again.

The blindfold might be robbing him of his sight, but it made every scent, touch, sound, and taste that much more intense. Royce’s smell filled his nose. His warm, soft flesh filled his hands. He caught every groan, gasp, and sigh as he ran his tongue up his cock again and again. And his taste exploded on his tongue.

Royce was everything in that moment.

After several teasing swipes, Marc wrapped his left hand around Royce’s cock and carefully directed it into his mouth, letting it slide across his tongue. He sucked him down. Royce’s hips gave a little pump as if he could no longer fight back the urge. Marc released his hold on his cock and returned his hand to Royce’s hip, pulling him forward, trying to get him to thrust again. Royce gave a few experimental thrusts, but it felt too restrained. He wanted Royce wild and free.

Marc slid up and down his cock a few times before taking him to the back of his throat and swallowing, letting his throat muscles massage the head of his cock. Yeah, he could deep throat a cock with the best of them. Royce cried out, the hand in his hair painfully tightening. He pulled back again to swirl his tongue around the tip before sucking him back down, and this time, Royce thrust deep. Marc moaned around his cock, pleased to feel that he was finally letting go. Royce surged in and out of his mouth, fucking him hard, growing thicker with each motion. Marc dug his fingers into Royce’s ass, loving the feel of the man.

“Oh fuck,” Royce swore. “I’m close. Gonna come. Fuck…”

Marc tightened his grip and hollowed his cheeks, increasing the suction. Royce was not escaping. He wanted this so fucking bad. More than relief for his own leaking cock. Royce thrust just a few more times before he came on a shout. Come hit the back of Marc’s throat, and he almost choked, but he quickly swallowed down everything that Royce gave him, letting the man’s cries of pleasure fill his ears.

Licked clean, Marc pulled away, letting his dick slip from his lips. He could feel Royce slump to his knees in front of him, with a deep exhale, as if that release had come from the depth of his soul. Something brushed against his lips, and Marc jerked before it returned a second time. Royce’s lips. He opened his mouth, and Royce’s tongue plunged inside, plundering it as if he were searching the lingering taste of himself.

“Perfect,” Royce murmured when he ended the kiss, pressing his forehead against Marc’s. “Absolutely perfect.”

Marc felt like he was glowing under the praise. Despite the thick carpet, his knees were starting to hurt like a motherfucker, and his hard-on was killing him, but it didn’t matter. He could feel Royce’s joy in the little kisses that peppered his jaw and the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s get you some relief now.”

Royce pulled away, and Marc shivered as cold air rushed in to take his place. It lasted only a second before Royce wrapped his fingers around his bicep, pulling him to his feet. He winced as his knees fought the movement and wobbled, but Royce was right there, putting Marc’s arm across his shoulder. He guided him across the room, one slow step at a time, and then let Royce push him back onto the bed.

He couldn’t stop the groan when his back hit the soft mattress, and he sank into the thick down duvet that covered his bed.

“Move back a little more.” Marc followed his direction, guessing that Royce was getting him centered on the bed. “Perfect.”

He liked that he kept repeating that word. Each time it was like a balm on his soul. Just a little more tension rolled off his shoulders, and another chunk of weight fell away. He wanted to be perfect, just for Royce, and the man currently running his fingers over his ankle made it feel possible.

Royce stood at the edge of the bed, one hand wrapped loosely around Marc’s ankle because he couldn’t stop touching him. His eyes traveled every inch of him from his long, muscular legs to his hard, leaking cock, across a broad chest to swollen lips and a flushed face half-hidden beneath the black fabric of the tie. He was goddamn gorgeous, every bit of him.

“Royce?” There was a slight waver to Marc’s voice. He knew that he was close since he was holding his ankle, but he must have been staring for too long. “You don’t have to…”

“Maybe I’m just enjoying the view.”

“Oh,” Marc said before swallowing hard.

Somewhere along the way, Marc had become incredibly easy to read. They’d spent days together. He watched Marc interacting with artists, clients, employees, friends, and his family. But ultimately, the most telling had been those little glimpses when Marc was sure that Royce’s eyes weren’t on him. When his painfully straight shoulders would finally slump under the weight of trying to maintain this perfect facade. When the mask would fall away, and he’d sigh, exhausted down to his very soul.

In those early days, everything about Marc seemed to remind him of Michael. From his long fingers and precise movements, as if each motion was to music only he could hear, to his hesitant smile and warm eyes. But Michael had never been one to hide what he was feeling, while Marc tried to conceal everything. Michael had a beautiful inner strength but had been convinced that he was weak. Marc exuded strength and confidence in everything he did, but he longed to let go and let someone else take control, to lean on their strength. He’d been able to read that in the man from the start.

God, he wanted to do just that.

He released Marc’s ankle and walked over to the nightstand, where he’d placed a condom and a bottle of lube. He tossed them onto the bed within easy reach. Marc flinched at the close sound but then took a deep breath. His hands were fisted at his sides, and his muscles were pulled tight. The combination of anticipation and need for release were stretching his control.

Crawling onto the bed, Royce settled on his knees between Marc’s legs. He slid his hands up the muscular calves, loving the rasp of dark hairs over tanned skin. He really did look as if he was made of honey, and the color was consistent almost all over. He dug his fingers in deep, massaging away the tension, until a low moan rippled from Marc’s lips. The sound went straight to his cock, stirring it back to life. The blowjob had been to take the edge off. He wanted to go slow with Marc, take him to the edge again and again, but he’d been balanced on a hair trigger.

With his fingers gripping his calves, Royce pulled Marc’s legs wider apart and bent down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the inside of his thigh. Marc hissed and bowed his back off the bed, thrusting his cock into the air. Royce smiled against Marc’s leg, watching the motion out of the corner of his eye. He’d get to that shortly. For now, he’d make Marc writhe on the bed, soft cries filling the air as he moved slowly, closer to his groin.

“Tell me what you want,” he commanded. His hands were on the backs of Marc’s thighs, continuing the deep massage he’d started on his calves. He leaned forward and licked the inside of his pelvic bone on the left side and then the right.

“Fuck me. Please. Need you. Need to feel you, Royce.”

“And how do you want to be fucked?” Royce moved lower, licking along the soft flesh inside of his hip while carefully avoiding his leaking cock.

“Don’t care. However you want. Whatever you want.”

He could feel his own dick growing harder with each desperate word. His hands gripped Marc’s legs harder, fighting the urge to snatch up the condom and lube and ending their torment right then and there. But instead, he gave them both a little something by dragging his tongue up Marc’s cock. A loud howl of pleasure echoed through the room from Marc, but he held perfectly still, his body painfully taut as he waited for Royce to do it again.

Royce eyed the drop of pre-come balanced on the dark purple head of Marc’s cock. It was a nice, long cock with a good girth. He’d loved having it in his mouth earlier. Leaning close, he knew that Marc could feel his hot breath on his velvety flesh, and still he waited, unmoving. Marc’s breaths came in short, desperate pants.

Starting at the base, Royce ran the flat of his tongue up, following the thick veins running along his cock until he reached the head. Then he took his cock inside of his mouth, swallowing him down. Fuck, he tasted good. Their last time had been faster, less time for him to savor him.

As he sucked, he fondled Marc’s sac, tugging on his balls to see exactly how loud he could get the man to cry out. Marc was so wonderfully vocal. It was as if all that careful control that reined in his every response in life abruptly stopped when it came to sex. Nothing was censored or hindered. Marc made it clear exactly how much he was enjoying something. It was fucking hot.

Releasing his balls, Royce slid a finger down across his perineum and carefully circled his hole. At the same time, Royce could feel Marc’s cock swelling on his tongue. He quickly pulled off and reached for the lube.

“No!” Marc cried out. One blind hand reached out for Royce to pull him back down, but he easily dodged, chuckling. “So fucking close.”

“I know. I’m going to be in you when you come.” The plastic snap of the lube cap filled the room and Marc sighed with relief.

“Yes. Need you in me.” And with that, he sounded centered again.

Royce poured some lube on his fingers and closed the lid. “Flip over. On your hands and knees.”

Marc carefully moved to obey, dropping his head to the mattress with a groan as Royce used one hand to part his cheeks while one lubed finger circled the tight pucker. He pressed inside the incredible heat with only a small hiss from Marc. He pulled back and when he moved to push inside again, Marc moved with him, groaning.

“More.”

He added a second finger, stretching him even more, earning a louder moan from Marc. With a smirk, he crooked his finger, brushing against his prostate. Just the slightest bit of pressure before pulling away again, but it was enough to get a full-body shudder.

“Please, Royce. Now. I’m so close. I can’t…fuck…”

Royce continued to thrust his fingers into Marc a few more times while he reached for the condom with his free hand. Sweat glistened on Marc’s back, and his breathing had become desperate pants. He was hovering on the edge, and Royce wanted to be inside of him when he finally pushed him over.

Withdrawing his fingers, he quickly tore open the wrapper, pulled on the condom, and slathered on some lube. He lined up behind Marc, sliding his left hand up his spine, before pressing slowly past the tight outer ring of muscles. Marc swore and groaned, causing Royce to immediately stop.

“Oh God, don’t stop now. Please. All of you.”

Royce leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the back of Marc’s shoulder. He pulled out a little before pushing forward again. Marc begged again and again for faster, harder, but Royce clenched his teeth and moved slow, inch by inch, dragging out that first moment, until he was fully seated, as long as he could. By the time he was deep inside of Marc, they were both sweating and breathless. Royce closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Marc’s back. He was so fucking close already. Marc felt so tight, so perfect around him. A part of him wanted to stay just like that forever. While another part wanted to fuck him so hard, they both saw stars.

“So perfect,” he murmured when he was sure he could move without his control snapping.

“Please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

“No, baby. I’ve got you.” Royce pulled back and then thrust in hard. He set them on a bruising pace, plunging into Marc again and again. His fingers snaked up to Marc’s hair and grabbed tight, pulling his head back at an awkward angle so that he could kiss him just as deep. “Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“Whose ass is this?”

“Yours. It’s yours. Only yours,” Marc moaned against Royce’s lips. Some little part of Royce knew that it wasn’t true. That it would never be true. This was only a temporary thing while they were forced together. Marc came from a prestigious family and traveled the world, while he was the son of a crime boss and a former enforcer who’d hurt people for money. There was no bridging that gap. They’d both come to their senses later. But when his cock was shuttling in and out of Marc’s ass, cries of joy filling his ears, and the sweat between them causing their bodies to slide, he needed to hear that Marc belonged only to him. Even if it was for just one night.

“Harder. So close…harder…”

With a growl, Royce pulled completely out of Marc, who sobbed a loud, “No!” but Royce didn’t give him time to argue. Roughly grabbing him, he flipped Marc onto his back with a soft umph . He wrapped Marc’s legs around his waist and leaned down, licking his way across his chest, from one nipple to the other.

“Jesus fuck , Royce,” Marc snarled. “I need?—”

He never got the chance to finish his thought before Royce plunged back inside, sending them both teetering right back on that edge. Royce stared down at Marc’s handsome face, his lips parted in an endless cry of pleasure. Sweat dampened his forehead and slicked his dark hair. But something was missing.

Reaching up, he ripped the blindfold off Marc’s eyes. Marc winced and blinked against the sudden light, then focused on his face.

“I want you to see who’s fucking you. See who owns you right now.”

“Yes,” Marc said on a gasp.

Royce shifted the angle, and Marc’s shouts grew louder as he hammered his prostate with each stroke. He grabbed both of Marc’s wrists, stretching so that their arms were pinned above Marc’s head against the pillows. He pummeled his body again and again. The first tingles started low as the orgasm built. He clenched his teeth, fighting it back. He would not go over first.

He stared deep into Marc’s wide eyes, falling into their vibrant blue depths. “Come for me, baby,” he whispered. His voice was so ragged and raw, he didn’t recognize it.

Marc gave a small, desperate nod, and then his body clenched tight around Royce as he came. As if he’d just been waiting for Royce’s permission.

Royce groaned with Marc as he felt the first hot splatter across his stomach. He kept sawing in and out of him, fucking Marc through his orgasm. Muscles milked his cock until he could no longer stand it. The orgasm crashed through him, knocking the breath from his lungs. For a moment, the world turned white. Oh God, he had to be dying. Nothing…nothing had ever felt this good. This…perfect.

Never move. Never let him move. It was the only thing that Marc could think. His mind was blown. That orgasm had to have killed countless poor, innocent brain cells, and he couldn’t make himself care. The only thing he was sure of was that he was covered in semen after having exploded without being touched, and Royce had collapsed on top of him, still buried deep in his ass. They were both breathing hard. Royce’s heart was pounding a rapid beat against his chest. And he never wanted Royce to move. He didn’t want this moment to end.

But it already had. His brain was already coming down from the high, and he could hear him begging in his head. What would Royce think? Begging. Or about how easily he’d gone down on his knees.

Royce shifted and turned his face into Marc’s neck, pressing a soft kiss to his throat. Marc let his eyes fall shut and sighed. That kiss went far to silence the angry, shaming voices in his head.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Marc said quickly as his throat threatened to close up. Royce moved onto his elbow, so he was looking down on Marc, questions in his eyes. “You good?”

Royce stared at him in silence for several seconds, his expression strange and unreadable, before he smiled again. “Perfect.” He kissed Marc, this time a soft brush of his lips against his. Once, twice. His tongue dipping briefly inside. It was so gentle, so sweet in comparison to what they’d just done, it was tearing down all of Marc’s carefully erected walls that protected him from the world.

And then Royce pulled away. There was surprise in his haunting hazel eyes for a moment before he could hide it. “Need to clean up,” he mumbled a second before he pulled his body free of Marc’s. He couldn’t stop the soft hiss escaping. Soreness was sinking in. Marc’s body had been deliciously used and battered, but he ached deep now. It had been way too long since he’d had regular sex.

He closed his eyes, so he didn’t have to watch Royce walk away. The sound of his footsteps across the marble bathroom was followed by the sound of running water. He needed to get up as well. He didn’t want to shower, but he needed to clean off. Hell, he needed to soak in the tub for a while, but he was so damn tired. All he wanted was to fall asleep wrapped around Royce.

His eyes jerked open again when the mattress dipped next to his leg. He’d drifted off and hadn’t heard Royce’s return. The sexy man was now kneeling beside him holding a washcloth while a towel was draped over his shoulder. Marc gathered enough energy to smile and reach for the washcloth, but Royce batted his hand away before he proceeded to wipe away the semen that was drying on his stomach. Only then did he hand the soft towel over to Marc to dry off while Royce moved between Marc’s legs. Marc watched him, confused, as Royce carefully folded the warm washcloth. He jerked in surprise when he placed it against his ass, soothing his sore entrance and muscles.

“I was rough,” Royce said.

“Trust me, you weren’t. At least, nowhere near as rough as I’ve had. And you’re certainly the first—” Marc stopped himself from saying more. But it was already too late judging by Royce’s narrowed gaze. Fuck, he was too damn relaxed. He should have kept his mouth shut.

“First for what?”

Marc looked away from Royce. He didn’t want to answer.

“Marc. Tell me.”

“First…to do this,” he admitted with a wave of his hand. He couldn’t meet Royce’s gaze anymore.

No one had ever taken care of him. The rough, brutal partners had always taken a joy in leaving him in a heap, bloody, bruised, and splattered with their jizz. No one cared if he had the strength to pick himself up and pull himself together. That was his problem. Even with the random partners he’d picked up over the past few years, it had been just a bit of pleasure and then they went their separate ways.

“Look at me.”

Marc took a deep breath and slowly drew his eyes back up to Royce’s face. It was only when he was looking at him that Royce continued speaking.

“No more of that shit. You’re worth so much more than those bastards. You deserve better.”

A small smile teased his lips. “So do you.”

Royce wrapped the wet cloth in the towel and tossed it over the side of the bed. He huffed a soft laugh. “What I deserve is sleep. You’ve worn my old ass out.”

“Then get your old ass in this bed, so we can sleep.” Marc said it, fully expecting Royce to turn him down, making excuses about how it was better that he stayed on the chaise. But Royce surprised him again by nodding and reaching to pull down the duvet.

Once the lamp was out, Royce pulled Marc close so that his long limbs were draped across his slighter body. They both sighed at the same time.

“So, where are we flying for this painting?” Royce casually asked in the darkness.

He’d known Royce wouldn’t let him go alone. “Ever been to Florence?”

“Kentucky? Plenty of times.”

Marc snorted and pinched Royce’s side. “Fucking smartass. Italy.”

Royce grabbed Marc’s hand and moved it so that it was covering his heart. “Nope. I hear it’s nice.”

Turning his head, Marc placed a kiss to Royce’s collarbone. The steady thrum of his heart lulled him closer to sleep. “You’re going to love it.”

“I’m sure I will, if we can avoid getting shot or going to jail.”

“I’ll keep them off our itinerary.”

“Thank you,” Royce whispered, covering Marc’s hand with his own.

Marc knew that Royce was referring to Marc’s efforts to get his mother safely back rather than any efforts to keep them from getting shot. So many words and emotions crowded his throat, fighting to escape, but now wasn’t the time. Maybe later when everyone was safe and sound, when they were no longer bodyguard and client, but just two men. For now, he simply said, “You’re worth it.”